


The Ghost of Christmas Past

by Aequitas (Professor_Fluffy)



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Christmas, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Fluffy/pseuds/Aequitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Drabble/Christmas Fix-It.<br/>Spoilers for the book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of Christmas Past

Bilbo sighed. His pantry was much recovered, along with most of his possessions. He missed the deep voices of his compatriots and the warm hand of Throin Oakenshield slipping possessively up the dip of his spine. 

He pulled the window closed, wistfully, and eyed his spiced wine. Setting the goblet on a stool near his best reading chair, he curled up with his diary and began to scratch accounts of his daily activities. He eventually found himself nodding off, gazing with drooping eyes into the cheerful flickering of the fire. 

The door slid open with a heavy scratch. A hooded figure shook glittering mounds of freshly fallen snow onto Bilbo’s immaculate floor, reaching a gloved hand up to yank the hood aside. Bilbo flung himself out of the chair, diary dropping forgotten to the floor behind him. He threw himself into the startled stranger’s arms. “Thorin,” he whispered. “How?”

“Gandalf.” Thorin’s gaze flickered, and he smiled at Bilbo. “Let go, little one, you’ll catch cold.”

Bilbo’s breathing hitched, and he punched Thorin’s mailed shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Best not to get your hopes up.” Thorin shrugged.

Bilbo frowned and drew away, hurrying to the fire, where he heaped more logs on the flaming pile. 

“You’ll return to your people then, be their King?" He was proud that the question came out level, apathetic.

Thorin chuckled, deep and rich. “My people are important, but I’ve learned from my father’s greed. The others know I'm alive. Those who did not abandon me, when I needed them most. You've taught me that there are more important things than ruling a kingdom, Bilbo. I have my home now," his gaze flickered around the cozy hobbit hole. "I am content.”

“You’ll stay with me then?” Bilbo turned, questioningly, and frowned at the puddle Thorin was making in his entryway. “Shut the door and sit down.”

“Aye, I’ll stay with you. But it must be a secret.” Thorin tossed his cloak on the ceder chest by the wall, and Bilbo hastened to hang it up, grabbing Thorin a glass of warmed wine as he walked back past the fireplace. He smiled when Thorin wrapped his hands around it, drinking half of it in a quick swallow.

“I understand.”

Thorin set the goblet next to his own and grabbed Bilbo’s hand, chaffing it between his. “Do you? You’ll have to keep others away, be a recluse. They can't know I'm here.”

“We’ll manage. They already think I’m eccentric. We can use it to our advantage.”  
“Another adventure?” Thorin tugged Bilbo into his lap.

“The best adventure.”

Thorin kissed him, licking into his mouth, which was spiced with the warm wine they'd been drinking. He pulled back, chuckling against Bilbo’s lips, “my very brave hobbit.”

"Yes. _Your hobbit._ Don't leave me again, Thorin."

"I can't make any promises," Thorin frowned.

"Say it. I don't care if it's a lie." Bilbo buried his face in Thorin's chest, taking comfort in the smell of leather.

Thorin ran a hand through his curls. "I promise."


End file.
